A Peculiar Shade of Coral
by Artemidora
Summary: A series of drabbles; a relationship told in emotions. Minerva explores her relationship with Hermione as a collection of moments. Post-Hogwarts, not perfectly compliant to DH epilogue - that is, she and Ron divorced three or four years before it. MM/HG.
1. First Kiss: June 2014

I had not been kissed in thirty-one years.

I lived a mostly celibate life anyway. Those who knew me well, of course, knew of my sexuality, but I did what was necessary to keep that (as most details of my life) private. But there she was, all of thirty-four, apparently lusting after an old woman. Apparently having done so for nearly twenty years, with a marriage and children in between. It would be an understatement to say that I was dumbfounded.

But with her hands in my newly-liberated hair, and mine placed tentatively around her waist, I could recall nothing sweeter than the silk of her lips.


	2. Beginnings

I had long since ceased to think of myself as capable of sexual desire. I focused instead on my pupils.

As it turns out, one of my pupils had focused on me.

She had kept contact with me after leaving Hogwarts, detailing her mind-numbing work for the Ministry. I had come to the decision to offer her a post at Hogwarts should there be a vacancy, but I stayed mum as she blithered on about Magical Law Enforcement, letters devoid of emotion.

My own feelings toward her were buried so well that I myself would not recognise them.


	3. Confirmation: June and July 2014

Sharing a kiss with Hermione Granger, I felt forty years younger. Certain parts of my body, dormant for years, sprang to life again in her arms. My pulse had surely not been this high since the Final Battle, sixteen years ago.

-=-=-=-

How had I overlooked this brilliant, passionate, beautiful woman?

I had long been aware of her capacity to carry on a conversation, resourcefulness, and informed loyalty. I knew of her remarkable talent and enormous potential.

But I had overlooked her sheer charm, all warm smiles and honest eyes. Now I would never forget.

She was just what I needed.


	4. Escalation: August to December 2014

I'll never know how she tolerated me, or why she was attracted to me in the first place. But, having found her, I would be hard pressed to let her go.

Actually, I saw little of her in the first several months of our relationship. We corresponded mostly in writing, as before. But now, the "Love" before the signature grew less innocent.

I became determined to see her again. By the time classes broke for Christmas holiday, I knew I had to pop over and visit. She didn't.

On the 27th, I Apparated to her bedraggled London flat and rang the bell.


	5. Coral: December 27th, 2014

Never before had I, in the heat of passion, left clothing strewn about on the floor, weaving a careless path to the bed. Never had I torn an article of clothing, even a wee bit. Never had I allowed someone else to push me backward without looking.

Truly, there may be a first time for everything.

Her lips were on my neck, my chest, my stomach. Before long I was blushing the peculiar shade of coral which occurs only in the bedroom.

Then my tongue was between her thighs, tasting sweat and musk and years of a woman's patience.


	6. Eagerness: April 2015

"Happy Easter, love."

"You came to visit me?" I was deeply pleased. I'd resigned myself to spend the lonely holiday at Hogwarts, but I craved a little company. I abandoned my letter to the Minister immediately, striding across my office with the energy of a thirty-year-old and kissing Hermione squarely on the mouth.

"Eager beaver!" She admonished, while I had the good graces to flush slightly at her inadvertent innuendo. Still, I cheekily retorted, "Not as eager as it will be tonight," earning myself a light slap on the arm.

Mercifully, I ended up rather more sated than eager.


	7. Summer Letter: July 2015

Dearest Minerva,  
Thank you for your letter. I know it's still four months on, but I've received word that I'll be paying you a visit in the fall! Although I no longer work in Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, I'm part of the committee corroborating Hogwarts' progress in house-elf treatment; I suppose, because I initiated the legislation (fifteen years ago!).

I would love to see the Manor, but unlike you, I do not have summers off, so I shall have to decline the invitation.

I miss you. I'll try to arrange an overnight visit in the fall.

Love,  
_Hermione_


	8. Official Business: November 2015

I watched my beloved sweep round the kitchen, interviewing elves, ascertaining their happiness and well-being. My arms folded, I leant against the door-frame, waiting to escort Hermione back to my office.

On the way, I made a slight detour. Pulling her along into a side corridor near the Hufflepuff portrait hole, I snaked my hands around her hips and kissed her softly. As Hermione's eager lips responded, I guided her gently to the wall.

"I feel like such a teenager," she mumbled into my mouth.

I immediately broke the kiss. "You didn't have to ruin the moment... _Miss_ Granger."


	9. Correspondence: January 2016

My Dear,  
How lonely my pillow seems without you! I shall miss your warmth in the new year.

I've a thought, for the upcoming autumn. I know you're doing good work for Muggle-borns, but I do perceive the tedium, and no one at the Ministry is truly irreplacable. Perhaps you might fancy a change? I'd been meaning to replace my temporary Professor of Transfiguration for sixteen years now. You always excelled in your studies, and given a bit of specalised training, I believe you would perform admirably.

I await your response.

-_Minerva_

-=-=-=-

Min,  
Yes.

-H


	10. Hogwarts At Last: August 31st, 2016

After many more cherished letters, she finally came to me. Not only to replace the numpty I'd hurreidly hired when I became Headmistress, and to relieve me as Head of Gryffindor. I had missed her presence at Hogwarts, more than was respectable.

Running my fingers through her waves, I explained how to run a class, the expectations for student proficiency, and how examinations worked. I kissed her goodnight in her new chambers, formerly my own chambers, but found myself unable to leave. I awoke in a foreign bed, tangled in limbs and the scent of love.

"The students will be arriving in five hours."


	11. Softening: September 2nd, 2016

"How was the first day?" I tried, tentatively rubbing her shoulder.

Stormily, she barked, "Can't we cut straight to the liquor?" I let out a brief chuckle, remembering my first year of teaching. Pouring us each a copious amount of Firewhiskey, I told her, "Tell me about it whilst we're drinking."

An hour later, we lay draped on my sofa, lips upon lips upon skin upon my very veins. Clumsily caressing hair and cloth and flesh. Sleepy from the alcohol, I reluctantly sent her to her own chambers.

I never did find out what made her want to forget that day.


	12. A Discussion: October 2016

"Are you sure Rosie and Hugo are all right with Ron?"

"No, but I've no one else to look after them," she sighed. "Arthur and Molly have had quite enough of children in the house, don't you think?" Curtly, I nodded. "Ronald has practically moved in with Harry and Ginny anyway, so at least the children have playmates. As does Ronald."

I smiled wryly. He needed that.

"That's part of the reason we split up. I couldn't deal with his childishness, his insensitivity..."

"That, and you fancied women."

"Really, only wom_a_n," she corrected. "Only you."


	13. Competitive Spirit: May 2017

I wanted to scream my allegiance, as most of the students were doing. Indeed, only the decorum commanded of my age, and the Headmistress' duty of impartiality, prevented me from doing so.

The Cup-determining match against Ravenclaw was upon us. One hand gripped my seat whilst the other clutched at Hermione's wrist. I was so wrapped up in the intensity of the match - Gryffindor was ahead, but only by twenty, and one of our Chasers had just taken a Bludger to the stomach - that I failed to reprimand our commentator's habitual vulgarity.

Irkedly envisioning Filius' smirk, I also managed to overlook Hermione's ardent gaze.


	14. The Children: June 2017

She, like thousands before her, had survived her first year of teaching. Now began the challenge, for me. As per her agreement with Mr. Weasley, we were to keep charge of the children during the summer holiday.

What had I gotten myself into?

I so wanted them to like me, but I knew nothing of how to interact with them. I felt irrelevant, and hopelessly incompetent. The children, however, were largely unperturbed by me; they went on merrily.

One day, I was noticed; appraised. Then Hugo, bless his heart, asked if he were permitted to love me.


	15. Diagon Alley: August 2017

At this rate, she would never get robes. And I could not have my students running about in the nude. Taking the eleven-year-old by the hand, I led her past throngs and coloured windows into Madam Malkin's. Hermione turned to me, pink-faced, as the deft tape measured her daughter.

"It's just, I hadn't actually been here in ages!"

My devious mind was ahead of her, again. "How about you run along to Flourish and Blotts and buy Rose's books. We'll pick up everything else. We can meet at Fortescue's in..."

I glanced at her sweet bibliophilic cheek. Compassion won. "...two hours."


	16. King's Cross: September 1st, 2017

"Hermione didn't believe I could pass a Muggle driving test, did you?" I was positively queasy, but something had pushed me to tag along. I smiled in spite of my stomach.

Rosie was all nerves; she'd been in her robes for five hours. Fidgeting, she eyed the timidest, idlest Potter child with curiosity. When James' commotion piqued his interest, I seized the opportunity for an aside with Rose.

"I'll be there when you get off the train, and your Mum'll be at the banquet."

Rose relaxed a bit, so I ventured, nodding, "Take care of Albus."


	17. Festivities: December 24th, 2017

The musty old lounge was cramped and dim. No one else seemed to mind: the room hummed with chatter and alcohol.

Neville bounced by in a tacky party hat, positively giggly on Poppy's arm. He was much more self-confident than the boy who'd first passed through those majestic doors in 1991. Also more drunk.

Skimming the festivities, my petulant gaze sought the only woman not in attendance.

The Macallan had gone to my throbbing temples. Plopping beside the fire, I could easily taste her sweet silk again, back in that stuffy room at that stuffy Ministry party. The promotion of one Percy Weasley to Senior Undersecretary.


	18. Parting: February 26th, 2018

_Official Ministry Business._ How vile.

I wouldn't be back for another month. Filius had been briefed. Hermione had been briefed.

That didn't stop her from crawling into my bed that last night. She held me close around the waist, stroked my wrinkled cheek, tacitly begged me to fight sleep. Groggily stretching to meet her lips, I calmed her quivers as best I knew how. I ignited her nerves. I let her cling to me like wet plastic.

Silly. But I was powerless.

The Ministry could wait a few hours in the morning. I had my priorities straight.


	19. Correspondence II: March 2018

My Dear,

I hope you are looking after yourself, and that your illness is passing. I yearn to be there with you; books are but an _ad hoc_ remedy.

Bureaucracy is positively tedious. I highly doubt you'd care for details, but I shall tell you that it consists of long hours in small rooms with insufferable men in ugly tweeds. The pompousness is palpable; it reeks of human desperation.

How the mind wanders when faced with drudgery! A conversation for later, surely.

I shall be back in your charge before a fortnight is out.

_-M_

_

* * *

_

She set down her quill carefully, lips pursed. Inserting emotion into correspondence was not her forte. Reserve suited her nature, or her carefully-cultivated demeanor.

It was better, she knew, to err on the side of caution. Minerva never trusted that her letters would not be intercepted. So she did not describe the images playing across her mind's eye during those meetings, nothing short of pornographic. She did not provide evidence which could identify any persons, events, or locations. She dared not write her lover's name.

Thrusting away the vague ache in her gut, she sent off the owl.


	20. Discomfort: July 31st, 2018

It was Harry's birthday, but unfortunately, my attention was focused on a ginger.

I knew that gaze by the way he tried to hide it. He couldn't help himself, much as I couldn't help myself four years prior. The difference was that he had already had his chance.

This, of course, didn't make her arse any less lovely.

I ignored his frequent glances toward me. I had seen this plot before, so I was damaged but not surprised when he lingered too long at her cheek, and she let him. I saw his head spin from her almost-forgotten scent.

Quietly, I stood.


	21. Secrets and Silence: September 2018

The letter finally arrived. I knew it was him by the way she evaded my questions.

So I didn't ask. My little bird needed her space, did she? I'd give her space. All the space in the world. But I didn't want to punish her, make her feel guilty. I avoided her gaze lest I shoot her any petulant glances.

If she knew my insecurity, she didn't show it. She pushed me away when I tried to embrace her in bed.

I told myself she was asleep and to let it go. But I couldn't. I couldn't let her go.


	22. Rupture: November 2018

They met up in Hogsmeade, she said. They had tea and a nice chat. As if I didn't know what that meant.

The pressure was too great; I couldn't sit in silence anymore. So I asked… or accused. The light of my life felt I had no right to pry, and she erupted. I didn't trust her. I treated her like a child.

To me, maybe she was.

I spilled heated words, too. (My brogue always surfaces at inopportune moments.) I did nothing to dissuade her of her opinions, nothing to win her back.

My bed was cold that night.

* * *

_A/N: As you can see, I've decided after a too-long hiatus to get back to this fic. It will be 35 chapters in total. I haven't decided yet whether or not I'll go back to my other in-progress fics, but I have too much invested in this one to leave it hanging. __ And yes, I'm keeping to the drabbles. _I think I will be writing somewhat longer chapters after this, as drabbles take a lot of energy. (If you have strong opinions about this, do let me know.)

_A few words of gratitude...  
__to **asouldreams**: I am consistently amazed at your stamina.  
to **tigertales**: For your encouragement and reviews on this fic.  
__to **owlofathena**: For reminding me how lovely a story can be.  
__and to **HeadmistressX**: One of my longstanding inspirations. I write hoping you are reading._


	23. Pertinacity: January 2019

There was still silence. If the years had taught me one thing and one thing only, it was patience.

Or stubbornness.

Perhaps a touch too much, but I was sure I had been wronged. She made no effort to reach out to me; should I be the one running through drafty corridors, wailing outside her quarters, once my own quarters?

Hardly.

She had stopped attending faculty meetings, or dining at regular mealtimes. I supposed she relied on her friendship with the house-elves or on her store of sweets.

Then, as my acerbity mellowed, I gradually began to miss her.


	24. Reunion: February 14th, 2019

It became clear that I could stick to my position indefinitely. That was the Gryffindor in me. The Ravenclaw in her finally decided on pragmatism.

Or she missed me.

Valentine's Day was almost over when I heard the knock. There she was, in the softest-looking gown imaginable, with big shining eyes and a tin of Ginger Newts. She stood before me, trembling. Tears fell. I took her hand.

When she kissed me, with those tender lips I'd missed, the world fell back into place. I wrapped my arms, myself, around her. We forgave each other in silence.


	25. Daybreak: February 15th, 2019

Sunlight streamed through my window. Too bright: I rolled over to hug my pillow closer. Only it wasn't cotton I touched but warm flesh.

Memories of the previous night flooded back to me. The famished kisses, the sweat, the pure bliss of falling asleep in her arms after months alone. I had lain between her legs for much longer than necessary, clinging to the warmth I found there, relishing her earthy musk.

She stirred. I leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Good morning, beautiful," I murmured as my hands wandered softly down her sides. Finally, we were home again.


End file.
